Each sea knows his prowess, each climate his name…
While he hurls round the thunder, and rides in the storm
He is more than all this! – He’s the Friend of Reform.
The radicals were sceptical of Cochrane’s motives. Henry Hunt, a fiery orator who was to become a leading figure in the movement for parliamentary reform, later wrote, ‘So little faith had Sir F. Burdett and his friends in the sincerity of Cochrane’s principles that they never drank his health, or even mentioned his name’,10 and the radical organisation led by Francis Place ignored him entirely. This was probably to Cochrane’s advantage because it was the other candidates who were subjected to ridicule and slanderous accusations. Sheridan was condemned for his drinking, his sloth and his friendship with the rakish and unpopular Prince of Wales; James Paull was denounced as a beastly drunkard and a base seducer; and Colonel Elliott was dismissed as a feeble-minded imbecile and was dubbed ‘Colonel Narcotic’. The character assassination of rival candidates, which was conducted by speeches, hand bills and posters, was a prelude to the high point of the campaign – the appearance of the candidates and their supporters on the hustings.
On Friday 8 May the crowds began to gather early in the morning in Covent Garden. At this date, before the building of Charles Fowler’s market building, Covent Garden was one of the largest open spaces in central London. On the south side there were two rows of shops selling fruit, flowers and vegetables, and alongside them an area with trees and shrubs for sale in tubs. The rest of the square was left open for market traders to sell their produce from baskets, hand carts, and horse-drawn farm wagons. The hustings, a raised wooden platform with a roof to shelter the speakers from the elements, was set up in front of the portico of St Paul’s church. In the space in front of the church, where street musicians and performers entertain the crowds today, a dense and rowdy assembly of men, women and children gathered to listen to the speeches and to applaud or jeer the candidates.
At ten o’clock the proceedings began and Cochrane was the first to address the crowd. Although he was attended by several naval officers in uniform he began by assuring the electors that he did not come forward on the ground of any merit which he might derive from his military services. He said he was entirely unconnected with any of the great parties in Parliament and, if elected, would vote for every measure which appeared to be right, whoever might originate it. He was a friend to the reform of abuses and, as for parliamentary reform, he did not conceive that it was a business so very difficult as some seemed to apprehend. He made a scathing attack on those who thought that naval officers ought not to be returned to Parliament. What about all those others who were equally unfit? Besides the holders of pensions, places and sinecures there were those whose chief ambition was to display their horses and carriages and their driving skills in Bond Street; those who were principally intent on showing their pretty persons to the ladies; and those who wished to use the House of Commons ‘as a mere fashionable evening lounge’. This brought cries of ‘Bravo! Bravo!’ from the crowd. He concluded by telling his audience that he would not have put himself forward if he had not felt conscious of his own honour and his belief in the independence of the great body of the electors of Westminster. It was reported that ‘Lord Cochrane’s speech was received with great applause, and without the slightest murmur of disapprobation; his Lordship appeared a great favourite with all ranks.’11
Colonel Elliott was not so fortunate. Both he and Colonel Robinson who introduced him were subjected to such a noisy and hostile reception from the crowd that The Times correspondent was unable to hear more than a few words of their speeches. James Paull fared better and when he had finished speaking there were loud cries of ‘Paull for ever’. Unable to appear because of the wound he had received in the duel, Sir Francis Burdett was represented by a Mr Glossop. The radical supporters in the crowd ensured that he got a good reception. Sheridan, once the toast of the town, decided not to appear in person and was represented by his agent.
With the preliminary speeches concluded, the High Bailiff asked for a vote by a show of hands. The Times correspondent reckoned that Burdett and Paull had the most support but the High Bailiff declared that the show of hands was in favour of Lord Cochrane and Colonel Elliott. The supporters of Burdett and Sheridan immediately demanded a poll. At the end of the first day the poll showed Cochrane leading with 112 votes, followed by Elliott with 99 and Burdett with 78. This galvanised the opposition against Cochrane and during the course of the next few days he was subjected to venomous attacks from the Tory supporters of Elliott, and from Francis Place and the radicals who were determined to ensure that Sir Francis Burdett was elected. For several days the crowds continued to gather in Covent Garden. The candidates or their representatives made speeches, and their supporters held meetings and distributed hand bills. When the polls finally closed the efforts of the radicals were rewarded: Sir Francis Burdett topped the poll with 5,134 votes; Cochrane came next with 3,708; Sheridan had somehow managed to accumulate 2,645 votes; Elliott had 2,137, and Paull had 269. Burdett and Cochrane were duly elected as the new members to represent the City of Westminster.
The Westminster election of 1807 came to be regarded as a triumph for middle-class radicalism. Cobbett wrote, ‘This election is the beginning of a new era in the history of parliamentary representation.’12 Elliott and Sheridan, the candidates representing the ruling parties, had been defeated by two candidates pledged to further the cause of reform. Cochrane recalled that when the result of the poll was known Sir Francis Burdett was carried from his town house in Piccadilly to a magnificent dinner at the Crown and Anchor tavern in the Strand. ‘A triumphal car was provided, which on its passage through immense crowds of spectators was enthusiastically greeted, the illustrious occupant reclining with his wounded leg on a cushion…’13 For many years afterwards the date continued to be celebrated with a dinner at the Crown and Anchor, and dinners were also held by radical organisations in other parts of the country.
The campaign was summed up in a typically irreverent caricature by James Gillray which showed the scene at the hustings with the five candidates competing to climb to the top of the electoral pole. Sir Francis Burdett is depicted as a republican goose at the top of the pole, with the words ‘Conceit’ and ‘Vanity’ on his wings and is being helped on his way by a pitchfork wielded by the radical clergyman Horne Tooke. Cochrane is below Burdett ‘flourishing the cudgel of naval reform lent to him by Cobbett’. He is wearing a naval coat and hat but has the striped red and white trousers symbolic of the French revolutionary Jacobins. Cochrane is trampling on Colonel Elliott who is depicted as a beer barrel. Below him is the red-faced, large-bottomed figure of Sheridan, described in the caption as ‘an old Drury Lane Harlequin’. James Paull, the unsuccessful radical candidate, is shown falling to the ground at the bottom of the pole ‘done over and wounded by the goose…’.
The new parliament assembled on Friday 26 June 1807. The King’s Speech was read by the Lord Chancellor in the House of Lords. In the House of Commons the new members were sworn in and then a succession of speakers rose to comment on the King’s Speech. Cochrane seized the opportunity to make a few brief and mildly critical comments about the two main parties. He saved his ammunition for 7 July when he introduced the first of two motions which would antagonise a great number of his fellow MPs and would put him on a collision course with the naval establishment.
A caricature by James Gillray of the Westminster Election of 1807, with Burdett and Cochrane triumphant at the top of the pole and beneath them the unsuccessful candidates Colonel Elliott, Sheridan the playwright and James Paull.
The House of Commons in which Cochrane first made his mark was burnt down in the fire which destroyed both Houses of Parliament in 1834. The chamber, which had witnessed the oratory of Edmund Burke, William Pitt and Charles James Fox, was smaller, darker and plainer than today’s House of Commons. In its general appearance it was not unlike one of Wren’s Cit
y churches which was not surprising because Wren had been commissioned to carry out major alterations to the gothic chapel of St Stephen’s in 1707. He had introduced galleries supported on slender columns on either side of the chamber; he had created three round-headed windows at one end, and lined the walls of the chamber with oak panelling. The Members of Parliament sat on plain wooden benches like pews. The Speaker sat behind a table covered with green cloth and laden with large leather volumes. The floor was plain wooden boards and the only decorative elements were the large brass chandelier hanging from the ceiling and the royal coat of arms above the Speaker’s chair.
Pictures of the House of Commons in session show the Members of Parliament gathered together on the benches: a picturesque cross-section of the ruling classes. There were country squires in plain jackets and riding boots, soberly dressed clergymen, wealthy aristocrats with fancy waistcoasts and cravats, and a sprinkling of generals and admirals in uniform. The behaviour of the members during debates shocked many observers: ‘Some talked aloud; some whinnied in mock laughter, coming like that of the damned from bitter hearts. Some called “order, order”, some “question, question”; some beat time with the heel of their boots; some snorted into their napkins; and one old gentleman in the side gallery actually coughed himself from a mock cough into a real one, and could not stop until he was black in the face.’14 Into this hostile arena Cochrane launched the first of his motions on 7 July: ‘That a committee be appointed to enquire into an account of all offices, posts, places, sinecures, pensions, situations, fees, perquisites, and emoluments of every description… held or enjoyed by any member of this House, his wife, or any of his descendants.’
He went on to give details of some of the worst cases of parliamentary abuses. There were, for instance, eighteen placemen – paid supporters of the government – who received a total of £178,994 of public money between them. Cochrane’s charges produced an angry response from the members present and the Chancellor of the Exchequer dismissed the motion as much too general. However, Cochrane did receive support from Samuel Whitbread, the brewer and philanthropist, and from his former opponent Sheridan who had been elected to another seat. Eventually it was agreed that a list be published of all places and pensions except those in the armed services. It was two years before the list appeared, by which time Cochrane had more pressing matters on his mind.
On 10 July Cochrane rose for a second time and embarked on a long and detailed onslaught on the navy, singling out Lord St Vincent for particular blame for various naval abuses. He said that his aim was to draw the attention of the House to ‘circumstances which have embittered the lives of seamen employed in His Majesty’s Service’. His first motion was ‘That there be laid before this House copies of letters or representations made by the commanders of H.M.s sloop Atalante and schooner Felix, addressed to Captain Keats (commanding off Rochefort) respecting the state and condition of those vessels, and the sick therein.’15
Both vessels had recently been lost with all hands and Cochrane had first-hand knowledge of the circumstances which had led to their loss. The commanders of both vessels had repeatedly drawn the attention of their commanding officers to the unseaworthy state of their ships but they had been refused permission to put into port for repairs. Cochrane knew the commander of the Felix and considered him one of the best and ablest officers he had ever known; and he had met the commander of the Atalante when he had been ordered to revictual the vessel which had been at sea continuously for eight months. He had been told by her officers that the sloop was in a dangerous condition: her foremast and bowsprit were sprung; she was making twenty inches of water per hour; and a gale of wind would cause her inevitable loss. Cochrane had reported the condition of the ship but no action had been taken.
He next drew the attention of the House to the effect of eight- or nine-month cruises on the health and morale of officers and men. Unable to stock up on fresh provisions men were going down with scurvy, while the refusal to allow shore leave to those who had been months at sea had an extremely bad effect on their morale. ‘It is a hard case that in harbour neither officer nor men shall be permitted to go on shore… And the injustice appears the more striking, when it is remembered that the Commander-in-Chief resided in London, enjoying not only the salary of his office, but claiming the emolument of prize-money gained by the toil of those in active service.’ Here Cochrane was reflecting the widespread resentment within the fleet at the harsh regime imposed on the ships blockading Brest and Basque Roads by Lord St Vincent whose increasing infirmities had caused him to leave his flagship and take up residence ashore.
Finally, Cochrane introduced a motion requesting that there be laid before the House all orders issued by the Commander-in-Chief of HM Ships in the Channel (Lord St Vincent) between 1 March 1805 and 1 March 1807 which restrained or restricted commanding officers from sending men to the naval hospitals. He gave details of men he had sent to hospital with serious illnesses who had been refused admission, and he also condemned the mistaken economies in medical supplies which resulted in a lack on board ships of such basic items as lint for the dressing of wounds.
During the course of his speech Cochrane had been interrupted with cries of ‘Order, order’ from the three naval officers present who were outraged that a junior officer should be raising matters which ought properly to have been dealt with by the Admiralty and Navy Board and not brought before the House of Commons.16 Stung by some of their comments he proceeded to make personal insinuations against each of them, which did nothing to further his case. Reminded that he had recently run the Imperieuse on to a shoal on the French coast, he then launched into an attack on William Young, the port admiral at Plymouth, for ordering his ship to sea when she was in an unfit condition, with forty tons of ballast still on deck, her guns unfitted and the dockyard men still working on her. At this point the Speaker stepped in to remind the Noble Lord that he must confine himself to the motion before the House.
Cochrane concluded by pointing out to the members that ‘All such grievances may seem slight and a matter of indifference to those who are here at their ease; but I view them in another light, and if no one better qualified will represent subjects of great complaint, I will do so, independent of every personal consideration.’ It was a passionate, crusading performance on behalf of British sailors, but it was tactically foolish and doomed to failure. All the motions were thrown out without a division. Cochrane had made enemies of key members of the naval establishment and was marked down as a troublemaker. Within two weeks he had been ordered back to sea.
8
Return to the Mediterranean
1807–1808
The Imperieuse, under the temporary command of Captain Skene, had spent four dreary months cruising in the vicinity of Ushant as part of the fleet blockading the French warships in the naval base of Brest. She returned to Plymouth on 11 August 1807 and, ‘to the delight of all, we found that the Mediterranean was to be our station and that Lord Cochrane was to resume command’.1 Cochrane had orders to proceed to Spithead to meet up with a convoy which he was to escort to Malta. He arrived on board the Imperieuse on 19 August and found the crew engaged in fitting her out for foreign service: repairs were carried out to the yards and rigging; the stores of the gunner, the carpenter and the boatswain were taken on board, and within a week the ship was ready for sea.
On Friday 28 August they sailed out of Plymouth Sound and ran straight into heavy rain and a squall which split the main topgallant sail. This did nothing to stop their progress and with a brisk wind from the north-west they surged up the Channel and within twenty-four hours were entering the Solent. They moored ship in the anchorage at Spithead opposite Southsea Castle. For several days they lay at anchor among the comings and goings of warships and merchantmen, fishing boats, colliers and innumerable small craft. While they waited for the convoy to gather, the crew were kept busy painting the ship, washing and scrubbing their hammocks and rowing back and forth to fetch provision
s and stores from Portsmouth dockyard.
On 11 September the commissioner came on board to pay the ship’s company. The people on shore always discovered when a ship was to be paid and from early in the morning the ship was surrounded by wherries and bumboats manned by local traders, many of them women, who clamoured to sell their goods to the crew. There is a vivid description of pay day on a frigate in Marryat’s novel Peter Simple:
About eleven o’clock the dockyard boat, with all the pay clerks, and the cashier, with his chest of money, came on board, and was shown into the fore-cabin, where the captain attended the pay-table. The men were called in, one by one, and, as the amount of wages due had been previously calculated, they were paid very fast. The money was always received in their hats after it had been counted out in the presence of the officers and the captain… The ship was now in a state of confusion and uproar; there were Jews trying to sell clothes, or to obtain money for clothes which they had sold; bumboat men and bumboat women showing their long bills, and demanding or coaxing for payment;… and the sailors’ wives, sticking close to them, and disputing every bill as presented… There were such bawling and threatening, laughing and crying – for the women were all to quit the ship before sunset.
There was no opportunity for the men to spend their pay in the taverns and whorehouses of Portsmouth and Southsea because the next day Cochrane ordered the signal to be made for the convoy to prepare to sail, and the ship was got ready for sea. At 8.30 a.m. on Sunday 13 September they weighed anchor, fired a gun and flew the signal for the convoy to get under way. Across the anchorage there were shouted commands and the thunderous flapping of heavy canvas as some forty merchant ships and troop transports hoisted their sails and followed the Imperieuse across to St Helens and then around the eastern end of the Isle of Wight and out into the Channel.
Cochrane the Dauntless Page 14
